


Cowardice

by bluephosphor



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Cassim-centric, Child Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Goes through the lives of Alibaba and Cassim, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Until the Fog Troupe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluephosphor/pseuds/bluephosphor
Summary: Cassim was pretty sure he hated Alibaba.Alibaba was sure he could never hate Cassim.
Relationships: Kassim | Cassim/Alibaba Saluja
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Cowardice

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this in the works for a while and I finally finished! Time to work on every other wip.
> 
> This was originally just gonna be pure smut but then I thought;; You know what would be great? Plot! So here we are.

He loathed explaining the bruises.

He fell, he tripped, he didn’t watch where he was going... the excuses were endless. He was deemed the clumsiest kid soon enough (not that he ever tripped up). It meant his sister had to share that same title, but he’d much rather joke around with other children than be publicly humiliated.

Though he doubt they could say anything worse than he already felt.

His scars grew more frequent. Scabs on the arms and legs from sliding across concrete, wounds from knocking into walls and splitting skin. That man took some twisted pleasure in making his children cry, in tossing them like they were dirt and stomping until they fell into a quiet submission. He liked _blood_ , like some kind of monster.

There was no way that man could just... not care. Cassim felt nauseous to think that — that monster merely kicked them because he had no better way to pass his time. Because maybe if he hit them enough, they’d somehow be capable of providing him enough booze to keep him drunk for days.

The fact that he felt sick meant there was some truth to that.

That man didn’t care. He didn’t mind that they sobbed, that they ran or fought back, because he knew they’d come crawling back like starved dogs. He didn’t care about making them tremble, about how their hearts thundered in their ears and their bodies shook with the realization there was nothing they could do. They had nowhere else to turn to. Sleeping on the streets left them prone to getting sick or getting kidnapped. When deciding between becoming a lifelong slave or enduring pain until he could hold his own, Cassim knew there was only one answer.

He just wished his sister didn’t have to suffer too.

“It hurts...” she sobbed, gritting her teeth while Cassim rubbed a wet cloth over her skinned knee. He had to remove the dirt so it didn’t get infected. Infection in a place like this meant certain death. He couldn’t do much about the bruise without ice — where in the world would he acquire it? — but he could do this much. Stopping his father had failed, like multiple times before, but he could ease her pain. It was the least he could do.

“I know.” Cassim ran a thumb over unbroken skin near the wound, pad brushing against darkened scars that tarnished what should be clear skin. Wound atop wound atop wound ...Would the cycle ever stop? “...I know.”

“You’re hurt too,” she sniffed, reaching up a shaking, scratched up hand to brush his purple cheek. A touch that reminded him all too much of huge hands descending on him and he smacked it away without a second thought.

Mariam gasped, slowly retracting her arm. The tears in her puffy eyes only fell faster and she curled up on herself, head down. It was only then he realized his mistake, how cruel it was to deny her touch when he was the only one she could safely reach out to.

“Sorry. I just... Sorry.” He wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. He wished to reassure her, to promise she’d suffer pain no more.

But that would make him a liar. And he’d hate to lie to Mariam.

So he let her sob in a ball, while he silently tended to her wound.

* * *

They had never meant to bump into each other.

It was an honest accident, Alibaba had been running fast as his feet could allow, eyes sparkling in wonder. It was only recently his mother started letting him run farther than where she could see in the slums, for she now trusted him and needed to attend her work more frequently to provide for him.

Alibaba would beg and beg to help, but she said time and time again he couldn’t help with her work (why was that? She never explained in depth). Instead, she told him to run around like the child he was so he did just that.

That was, until he ran into a pack of older children. They had to be at least ten (so old!) and their height was intimidating. They didn’t take kindly to his not-so-subtle crash into the tallest one, nor to how he stared up at them in wonder. They made a comment on his outlandish hair (he supposed he never saw anyone else with golden hair. His mother said it was special), and being proud as he was, he stuck out his tongue and ran for the hills when they growled and chased him with raised fists.

With Alibaba’s luck, he crashed into another kid (two in a row!), this kid much closer to his age. They both fell upon impact and the boy winced, rubbing his head. There was a bruise on the boy’s cheek — was it his fault? — and Alibaba stood hastily, meaning to help the child up. Alibaba flinched when he realized the other boys were still on his tail, and stood menacingly in front of the three once they caught up.

“I-It’s your fault for making fun of my hair!” Alibaba tried to stand tall, voice cracking under the pressure. The older boys glanced at each other, mumbled amongst themselves, and broke into obnoxious laughter that could made Alibaba’s ears bleed.

“Oh, he thinks he’s all big and tough. What, you think you’re a big kid now?” the biggest child mocked, leaning down to Alibaba’s height. Alibaba crossed his arms and huffed, holding his head a little taller. He nearly jumped when he felt an arm on his shoulder, squeezing it in a warning. It was the kid he bumped into. He forgot the kid was still there.

“I’d rather be small than a big baby,” Alibaba snorted, resulting in a growl from the older kid. So what? Alibaba could totally take them on! He made to take a step forward, until the kid stepped in front of him and brandished a knife.

Everyone gasped and stepped back, including Alibaba. For a child like him to have a knife... That was dangerous. Too dangerous. Maybe Alibaba should run? But this kid was protecting him! Right?

“Piss off. No one has time for your crap,” the boy hissed. Instead of stepping back, the biggest kid grew angrier. Alibaba was sure he’d attack if a friend didn’t grab his shoulder. The older kids looked amongst themselves questionably, but ultimately left, uninterested in shedding blood.

“I hate people like that,” the kid mumbled to himself, sheathing the knife he tucked safely into his clothing. He spun around, pointing up an accusing finger. “And you!”

“Wha— me?” Alibaba took a step back.

“What kind of idiot are you, egging them on? They’ll crush you!” The boy took a step forward, poking Alibaba in the chest _hard_.

“No way! I totally would’ve beat them if you didn’t step in!” Alibaba argued, grabbing the boy’s finger. He didn’t need his help anyway, he totally could’ve done it himself.

“Tch, whatever. You’re an idiot and I’m leaving.” The boy seemed to lose interest. He yanked his hand back and turned away, ready to stalk off. Without thinking, Alibaba grasped his arm.

“Wait. Um... T-Thank you. And I’m sorry about the bruise!” Alibaba felt his cheeks grow hot and let go to spin on his heel, crossing his arms. Ugh, he shouldn’t be apologizing! That kid underestimated him and made fun of him! ...But he did help him. Even if it was with a weapon.

“Huh? You didn’t... Whatever, it’s nothing. That all?” The boy raised an eyebrow, tilting his head.

Alibaba risked a peek. His sunny eyes shone so much brighter than Alibaba’s golden-brown irises did. And while Alibaba’s own hair was ‘weird’, he thought purple dreads were just as weird. If not fascinating. He’s never seen it before, but that just meant that he liked it more!

“What’s your name?” Alibaba squeaked out, immediately turning his head away to squish his cheeks. Why was he so embarrassed? It wasn’t like he was sucking up to the kid or anything!

“...” The kid observed him with eyes Alibaba didn’t really understand. It reminded him more of the dark looks he’d see from sick, defeated adults rather than kids his age.

“Cassim,” he mumbled. Cassim, huh? Alibaba liked it! He turned towards Cassim with a grin, cheeks all cooled down by now.

“I’m Alibaba! You should come and play with me sometime!” Alibaba propositioned, taking a giddy step forward. Cassim appeared entirely lost, but he shrugged and gave a small nod.

“Sure. Why not.” He didn’t look too amused, or sound nearly as excited as Alibaba. Normally, that would dampen Alibaba’s spirit, but he could totally make this guy enjoy time with him! Alibaba got along so well with the other kids, after all.

Their meeting was over all too soon. Cassim mumbled something about returning home to a sister (a sister! Alibaba wondered what having a sibling was like), and he scurried off to wherever his home was located.

Alibaba really hope he’d see him again. Something about Cassim was a little scary, but if Cassim protected him, he couldn’t be all that bad, right?

* * *

So Alibaba became a new member of the friend group.

Cassim wasn’t sure when or _why_ it happened. So what he stopped a few idiots? Didn’t mean Alibaba had to cling to him like a monkey. But more than that, Alibaba always felt the need to one-up Cassim, to prove he was more capable or something.

Maybe he just wanted to impress Cassim. Cassim found it irritating, and it usually resulted in them bumping heads. By the end of the day, they’d make up after one of them gave in. Cassim wasn’t sure why he tolerated it. He supposed he’d rather keep the guy around than stop meeting over some petty argument.

When he was around Alibaba, smiles cane to him so much easier. And sometimes, having a kid his age to openly brawl with was a nice stress reliever. Especially it being Alibaba, with their petty arguments and all. Easy to tease and quick to fight, he was so entertaining at times.

Cassim didn’t hate the time they spent together.

* * *

(And when Anise’s expression fell when Alibaba talked about Cassim, he didn’t then understand. But not soon after, Cassim and Mariam visited their little hut more frequently.

She paid special attention to the bruises and wounds they ‘mysteriously’ acquired. Alibaba was too naive to understand at the time. Was that why Cassim would occasionally stare at Alibaba in envy? Contempt? Why Cassim would make offhandedly comments about his father and praise Alibaba’s lineage? He wished he knew sooner.

Maybe then he could’ve done something.)

* * *

Envy was a sin. Cassim found with each day, he cared less and less about the word of God. And with each new bout of pain, his faith grew weaker.

Was God really on his side? Was this the destiny God lay out for him? Surely things would get better, they had to.

But they didn’t.

Beatings grew more and more frequent. Demands grew harsher and the punishments crueler. Even when he’d try to shield Mariam, he’d merely achieve a blow to the stomach and a mouthful of blood from a bitten tongue.

He hated the fear. He hated shaking at the mere approach, freezing up and flinching at a hand. Attempting to run but being dragged back with a force he could never stop, and any attempt at fighting being met with annoyed blows.

He also hated the lack of care. The fact that a part of him still craved some kind of love from his father was disgusting. He shouldn’t care, he should hate his father, but whenever his father looked proud for those few moments, he felt a small dash of hope. Of happiness.

He was hopeless.

His only saving grace were the days Cassim got to spent like a normal kid playing with others. Or perhaps when Anise would find their beaten bodies and provide them better aid than Cassim could ever manage, and care Cassim found foreign and deceptive. Were all mothers like this? He hardly remembered his own.

Cassim always thought he was helpless to his father’s whims. He had a weapon to protect himself with, but to what end? He only used it when slicing meat or holding his own against potentially dangerous adults. He acquired it with his own hard work, but what was the use if he couldn’t even protect himself? Every time he considered holding a shaking blade to his father he’d break into a cold sweat and feel his head ache. He was a coward.

Well... not entirely. Not on that fateful day.

It was a whim. Boiling blood rushed to his head and a seething rage that constantly bubbled from within spilled fourth. A need to protect, a need to attack, the mind-consuming fear of something worse coming to pass.

He mentioned Mariam. His deadbeat father mentioned _Mariam_. She hadn’t even reached ten yet, the monster. Cassim could care less about himself, but he would never let people lay their hands on Mariam. His father had nothing. He deserved nothing.

Not even his disgusting life.

So in a blind rage, Cassim surged forward and plunged his knife into his father’s side.

He never knew the feeling of metal piercing flesh or warm blood splattering his arms until then. The almost comedic squish of yanking a knife out, the grunt of a dying man.

No matter how much Cassim washed his hands, all he could smell was blood. Taste the metallic smell deep in his mouth, enough to gag on it. His father’s final words continued to haunt his already broken mind.

He really was nothing but a useless bastard.

* * *

Cassim never said what happened to his father. Maybe he didn’t know, but soon, Cassim and Mariam came to stay at their home.

Alibaba couldn’t hold in his happy giggles, pulling them into hugs and cuddling tight with them on chilly nights. So this is what it was like to live with friends, or even to have siblings! He loved waking up to the antics of Cassim prancing around and his mom giving Cassim a stern but loving talk, or Mariam pulling he and Cassim over to play with stones. Alibaba enjoyed being friends with Cassim enough, but now he got to be with Cassim and his sister everyday, along with his mom! He didn’t think he could be happier.

People said living in the slums was awful. Was it really that bad when you could be around those you loved? Maybe Alibaba bickered a lot with Cassim, but he enjoyed playing with him more than anything. They’d run around rooftops, sneak off to play in rubble with a giggly Mariam trailing behind, dip their fingers in the river...

Even if they had to do a little extra work, or his mom was gone more often for her job — prostitution, Cassim explained — Alibaba didn’t really mind.

Because his family expanded, and he wanted nothing more than to spend time with them.

In the freezing months, they were always so warm. Alibaba never wanted to leave their sides.

* * *

Anise was a prostitute. It was bound to happen eventually. His dad had explained in an extremely crude manner, but he got the gist of it.

Still, a part of Cassim felt that maybe they’d get lucky. That even if it happened to other women and men, it wouldn’t actually happen to someone he knew.

But of course it did. Why would he be allowed anything more than a few months of happiness? Of course Anise had to grow ill. Of course the illness had no cure, it was sexually transmitted.

And of course, Anise had to pass.

Knowing all of this objectively didn’t stop the pain. It didn’t ease the sated headache, nor did it stop his jaw from clenching and his body from trembling.

He continuously told himself to not cry, to not let tears spill because he had to remain strong. But when Mariam clung onto him with Anise’s limp body in front of them and his guard fell for just a moment, he came to the painful realization.

Telling himself to not cry didn’t matter. Because even if he willed himself, he couldn’t cry.

All he could do was make a vow to protect them. To work hard to protect the family he was gifted with. The family that was so easily broken in a few months.

They were all he had left. He had to protect them, no one else would.

Because no one else cared. Not now, nor ever.

* * *

It really was cruel. His mother was the kindest person he knew. For her of all people to just... like that... Alibaba couldn’t fathom it. In what world was it right for such an enthusiastic woman such as herself to pass? It was so, so wrong.

But time couldn’t reverse. All Alibaba could do was work hard at what they could do. Whether it be shining shoes, touring, cleaning houses, anything to keep them sustained. Cassim took up being leader of the household (Alibaba couldn’t even if he wanted to) and helped keep them on track. Alibaba was eternally grateful, and Mariam always showed her gratitude in hugs, smiles, and by giving extra food Cassim would just push right back or repay in double.

Alibaba’s family had grown smaller, but he still loved it all the same.

This didn’t change, even when Cassim grew more distant and started hanging out with ruffians. Alibaba didn’t know them all that well, Cassim never bothered with an introduction, but Alibaba felt that if he could just _help_ somehow, he could be more useful to Cassim. To Mariam. To himself.

Cassim would always refuse, saying something about Alibaba being bright that Alibaba didn’t fully understand. But Cassim’s words were final and any objections were shut down.

At the very least, Cassim would return at night, and they would all fall into a familiar pile of messy limbs. They didn’t have Anise to hold them all together and wrap them in her warmth, but they could make do with just each other.

It was still warm. And that was enough for Alibaba.

* * *

When Cassim heard Alibaba was a prince, he had no reason to be surprised.

So what if Alibaba grew up beside him? Maybe a part of him enjoyed the times they played together no matter how much they fought, but at the end of the day, Alibaba was different.

It wasn’t just the hair or eyes. His mere presence. Something about it was so bright. Ever since the first time Alibaba bumped into him. Bright and blinding, but warm and comforting. A sun, a sun that bathed Cassim in streaks of light he could never exude. A sun he could never fully reach because Alibaba always felt out of Cassim’s grasp. Even when they held hands, when they all fell into a cuddle pile, something about Alibaba felt different. Distant.

Cassim despised it.

And any part that didn’t had to be shut down, because there was no way in hell he’d let Alibaba be a selfish ass and stay. If he was a damn prince then he’d better put on the crown and act like one, because Cassim had no desire to stay with him.

Or maybe he did. But at this point, it didn’t matter. Not what he felt, not what Mariam felt. Not even what Alibaba felt.

Alibaba was the light. He best go where he can shine it from above, where everyone can see and bask under.

Cassim belonged in the darkness. He always did. And if Mariam was destined to that fate too, he’d do his damndest to feign the light by himself. She deserved at least that much.

* * *

He let Cassim shove him out. He grew angry, landed a series of punches Cassim didn’t return (why didn’t Cassim fight back?), and stormed off stubbornly.

A part of Alibaba still felt uneasy. He didn’t understand why. A prince? His father was a king and his mother a precious maid to him? How strange.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t need Cassim or Mariam. This bone-deep ache across his entire body meant nothing. If Cassim wanted to be an ass, Alibaba wouldn’t come back.

...Why did he so badly want to cry?

* * *

“You got really hurt this time...” Mariam pat a cloth on Cassim’s tan side, visibly frowning at the blood that stained it. An indescribable look crossed her face when she dipped cloth back into the brownish pail, then the clean water, and repeated the process. Cassim tilted his head away, working his hair into an awkward half-ponytail Anise did much neater.

“Mmhm.” Cassim yawned, nearly choking due to the stretch of his body irritating the already bleeding wound. Maybe he was a little too reckless this time around. They had a big haul and ran at it too recklessly, Cassim taking the brunt of the retaliation in his attempt to defend the others in their escape. It didn’t matter much, they managed to acquire the obscene amount of gold the nobles paraded around, but Cassim would have to work up a much more organized battle plan from here on out.

It wasn’t like a year or two ago when he could just run all willy nilly, he’s been watching and taking note of these merchants he’d rob for years, as well as his teammates in question. When they realized his planning usually acquired them their goal, they followed Cassim without question, almost blindly in their loyalty.

Cassim wasn’t big on kindness. The others knew that all too well. But from his time shining shoes and breaking rocks, he learned how to feign a pretty smile, and how to come off as naive and defenseless.

No one thinks much of a blithe teenager from the slums. Why would they?

But Cassim could use that to his advantage, for him — he winced and heard a loud ‘sorry!’ — and for her. He put a hand on Mariam’s head, giving her a few consoling pats. She met his eyes in a query, and when she got no response, she tilted her head into the touch and continued to clean the wound.

He could do it.

And he didn’t need _that_ guy’s help. He could do it all on his own. He could protect her. Himself. His other friends who helped him get where he was.

He had to.

* * *

Alibaba wasn’t sure when he got used to the pampering and doting by the other maids. Nor was he sure when he grew used to his hair being pulled in a tight ponytail and being forced to act like he was attending a ball every single day.

Education, eating, how he held himself, swordplay technique, there were so many things Alibaba had yet to learn that the king introduced him to.

The slums felt like a distant dream in comparison to this lavish lifestyle. Each step forward he felt he grew farther and farther away from his roots, where he had come from.

He occasionally wondered how Mariam and Cassim were doing. After leaving in a fit of rage, he was able to clear his head and think in a more calm state. The more he thought, the more he realized he acted irrationally, and the more he realized Cassim probably shoved him away out of kindness. Alibaba had the chance to live as a prince, of course Cassim would tell him to go. Alibaba probably would’ve done the same. (Or he would’ve cried desperately for Cassim to not leave, but he won’t consider that.)

“Pay attention, prince Alibaba.”

“Gah!” Alibaba startled, short sword knocked from his hand. He looked up in defeat at Barkak, who stared down with that same hard face of his. Alibaba was sure a hint of kindness could be detected in there — Barkak was hardly ever mean — but he found his face intimidating all the same. He picked up the sword in slow, awkward movements and shuffled his way back into an offensive stance.

“Is something troubling you? You’ve been out of focus lately.” Barkak narrowed his eyes, the gesture as terrifying as it was endearing, for it meant Barkak showed a little care, more than Alibaba ever received from anyone else.

Alibaba was sure Barkak was one of the few to recognize him as a person. His supposed half-brothers never even made an attempt to greet him, and would turn with an upturned nose whenever Alibaba approached. Alibaba didn’t know why his brothers thought so lowly of him, but after his third try, he resigned and made no other move to befriend them. The maids showed sympathy, but treated him all the same. Alibaba wondered if they understood him at all.

“Sometimes I wonder if they’re doing alright. My... family. Not Ahbmad and Sahbmad. But...” Alibaba hadn’t spoken their names aloud since he left the slums. It felt wrong to utter it to someone who knew nothing of what it was like to be raised there, to face every day struggling for food and money.

“I’m sure they’re doing just fine.” Barkak reassured, though the hand on Alibaba’s shoulder felt too heavy for his peace of mind. He shook his head, bangs falling to cover his eyes.

“Maybe. I just... I worry sometimes. I left without so much as a goodbye. Don’t you think I could visit?” Alibaba met Barkak’s eyes desperately, grasping at Barkak’s sleeve. If he could visit again, then maybe—!

“You have your duties as prince, Alibaba. And a prince visiting the slums can mean trouble if others find out or remember your true identity,” Barkak said. His words were absolute. He drew back, moving his hand to once again grasp his sword.

There was no arguing then.

Perhaps Alibaba could try another day, when Barkak was in a better mood or he’s grown more skilled in his swordplay.

But he knew the answer would always remain the same.

* * *

Cassim never wanted to cry ‘ _Why her? Why not me?_ ’ more than in this moment. She was so young, too young. He vaguely wondered if impaling himself in the chest and letting his body collapse would bring him peace, if being up there with her would let him be a free man. Free from his sins, free from his pain.

But he wasn’t a quitter. Much as he wished he were, as he wished he could just drop everything and run for the hills, he couldn’t. He had to endure, like he had this entire time.

Mariam had Anise. They could keep each other company now.

But Cassim was left with nothing. His entire family — gone. Just like that. All it took was a few years, each member coming and going like the wind.

It was so ironic he was the one left standing that he wanted to laugh.

His mind jumped to Alibaba for a short period, but to think of Alibaba meant to acknowledge that Alibaba still meant something to him. A traitor like Alibaba meant nothing. He was a pampered prince and nothing more.

The tears wouldn’t stop. Tears for Mariam, tears for Anise, tears for his own, pathetic situation and self-pity.

God, he hated himself.

He despised the life he was led to live. The brittle concrete he was born on, his weak mother who died during Mariam’s birth, his useless father who fell to a simple stab wound, the kind Anise who left them alone, and Alibaba... Wherever he was.

All he experienced were the tears, the screaming, the limp, tiny body in his arms. He couldn’t leave, the outside wanted to contain the outbreak of disease, so they sealed off all exits of the slums.

It really was disgusting, how nobles only wanted to save their own skin. Perhaps they had no sense of what it meant to be human.

Cassim hated how light her body felt in his arms. He hated every agonizing second of standing, of feeling her warmth fade with each step. He hated the feel of dirt under his soles, the lack of breathing in his arms, the dreary atmosphere that threatened to swallow him. He hated how bodies without mourners were dropped into a cart, like they were nothing more than worthless luggage.

Mariam. _Mariam._ Why was she nothing more than a carcass? Why was his little sister, his sister full of love and life and the determination to power through gone, just like that? Why did she have to suffer in her final moments? Was it too much to ask for Cassim to shoulder her pain? Was it too much for her to just _live_? Was that request alone too much?

“Cassim, you... Oh no...” A weak voice spoke up from behind him, but it almost immediately retreated. He glanced behind to see Zaynab, eyes glazed over in sympathy when she laid eyes on the body in his arms.

“Yeah. You lost someone too, right?” Cassim’s eyes were unfocused as they trailed over Mariam’s corpse. He swore he could feel it rotting in his arms, the feel of molting, peeling skin that stretched under his fingers. If he looked closer, he could probably see aged, brown muscle underneath.

He looked away.

“...Yeah. Um...” Zaynab rubbed at her cheeks, drawing in a broken breath that threatened to be cracked with sobs. “Do you... want help? I can find Hassan. You helped us bury, so...”

“Yeah.” Cassim tilted his head away so she didn’t have to see fresh tears welling in his already red and swollen eyes. “Thanks.” The voice was so deep and raw it hardly resembled him. This was what he was reduced to.

“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his shoulder before she left for Hassan in a sprint. Cassim wasn’t even sure how he’d respond. She lost someone, Hassan lost someone... Cassim was sure everyone lost someone, one way or another. Just thinking about it made him sick, and the pungent smell and taste of dirt and blood only grow stronger.

So disgusting. This world really was disgusting.

Or maybe, they were the disgusting ones. And the world just wanted to purge them in earnest. Their mere existence was a sin in and of itself.

If that were the case, Cassim wished he never lived at all.

* * *

Days came and went. No matter how Alibaba worried or pleaded to leave, the days would continue to pass. Time stopped for no one, but Alibaba wished it would for a moment so he could see his friends — his family again.

He missed it. He missed Mariam’s giggles, Anise’s hugs, Cassim’s teasing and their occasional, playful bickering. Alibaba knew he was a prince, he didn’t mind, but he longed for the days when it was easy. When he had to do nothing more than stay safe and not cause his mother worry.

But perhaps it was better he stay. The king was growing more ill. It was subtle at first, but each passing day became more and more obvious. The coughing, his body growing weaker, and his appetite becoming smaller and smaller. He’s occasionally heard Barkak forcing food upon the king when Alibaba passed his chambers, but Alibaba could never will himself to enter.

The king was his father, blood and all. But compared to his mother, the king felt like a complete stranger.

Ahbmad and Sahbmad grew up in the palace, but they never seemed to have much contact with the king either. He was so taken by his duties and his illness eating away at him that he could never attend dinner or call for his three sons. Alibaba had no desire to encounter his half-brothers anyway, so he had no complaints there.

But with the king growing weaker and weaker, Alibaba wondered if he should’ve spent more time with him, if he should’ve tried to engage with him more.

He already lost his mother. It’d be cruel to lose his father too without so much as a goodbye.

But each time he made to approach his chambers, his fingers would tremble, and he clasped them before turning away.

He was such a coward.

* * *

Cassim lost the ability to cry long ago. At one point, his sorrow turned into apathy, his pain into indifference. Any fire in his eyes had been lost, for there was nothing left to keep it alight.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel something seeing his home burned down. Maybe anger. Seething rage. Or indescribable sadness. But he could only stare. Stare as his friends sobbed beside him. Stare as his lifelong home was burned to nothingness.

The fire was so hot. He hadn’t known this kind of warmth for a long time.

Would it be wrong for him to throw himself into it? Pain sounded better than this deep empty void in himself, where he processed nothing and could only move lethargically.

That feeling was why, when he was greeted with the ability to fight back, to regain something he once lost, he _felt_. He finally felt something other than nothing. He felt alive. A need, a purpose. If his life was taken from him like that guy said, all he had to do was snatch it back.

Why would he ever let this opportunity go to waste? He might be scum, but even scum like him could do something worthwhile, become someone worthwhile.

He could do it. He could get right where that damn Alibaba was without blood lineage. He could.

He’d show everyone. He’d prove fate could be changed, that he didn’t have to dance in the palm of God’s hand like a little toy. No, he was his own person.

To change his accursed fate. That had a ring to it.

* * *

(In retrospect, Alibaba should’ve had an inkling something was wrong. But he was blinded. By relief, by happiness, by nostalgia. He finally got a glimpse of one of the people he wanted to see most and followed blithely to a bar.

What set Cassim off? Maybe it was standing by Mariam’s grave and seeing an old friend approach, someone who so easily avoided the wrath of the slums due to lineage. Cassim always seemed to have a bone to pick with blood. ‘Blood doesn’t determine who you are’, Alibaba wanted to repeat over and over. Cassim was so sure of his lack of worth it pained Alibaba. And he was so sure of Alibaba being on a pedestal it annoyed him.

Yeah, sometimes Alibaba wanted to slap some sense into Cassim. But what right did Alibaba have when his own actions were so naive and hopeful, even now? And what could Alibaba say to reassure him when he had to go through what Alibaba didn’t?)

* * *

Cassim couldn’t tell if putting on a smile was significantly harder or easier. Something about seeing Alibaba after all this time sparked something, a flint to a fire that he couldn’t classify as good or bad. It was just _there_ , and Cassim wished it weren’t because seeing Alibaba again was hard enough as it was.

He wouldn’t let his mind delve too deep. The deeper he went the more his morality grayed and the less sure he became of his resolve, but Cassim would never back out now, and if that meant forcing drinks on a fifteen year old, then so be it. If he had to feign laughter and treat Alibaba like a friend who never left all these years, then he would without hesitation.

If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have anything to say anyway. Alibaba living in his naive little world was probably for the best. He was just that kind of person, better kept in the dark. Part of it made Cassim sick, which was ironic, since he was always the one to retain information. He _could_ tell Alibaba about the slums. He _could_ tell Alibaba about Mariam and how they were steps away from her grave. But to what end? Would it even matter? At the end of the day Alibaba was a prince with a prostitute for a mother and probably had no chance of taking the throne anyway. He had no influence. It’s why Cassim was working to take things into his own hands, one step at a time.

“It’s been so long... hehe... Did I drink more than you?” Alibaba gestured to his mug, face flushed and words slurred.

“‘Course not. I can just hold my liquor,” Cassim teased, taking a sip of his mug at an angle to make it seem he took a heavy gulp.

Cassim could leave right now. Alibaba already told him enough. He was all set to send two of his comrades out to trail Alibaba from a safe distance (good thing they were drinking at the same time). He had no real reason to stay, but he wasn’t making any moves to leave either.

Did he want to stay? Hah, what a joke. It didn’t matter how much he stalled. A route to the palace would open soon enough.

But it was for that exact reason he could stay longer without worry.

Cassim was pretty sure he hated this guy. He was also pretty sure he felt something that couldn’t yet be put into words, but it gave him a sense of unease.

Alibaba was a strange guy.

* * *

It had to be karma. Being told to take over as king, then simultaneously being the reason for the king’s demise.

He was naive. Such an idiot. He knew he saw a dark look in Cassim’s eyes when they first reunited, but he chalked it up to his imagination or the lack of light playing tricks on him. He knew Cassim was being a little forceful in the drinks but Alibaba thought it was all in good fun.

He was trusting. Too trusting. Cassim might’ve been his childhood friend but he saw exactly how Cassim fell in with ruffians. He knew Cassim took up stealing, that Cassim wasn’t entirely righteous. Of course he’d take advantage of getting to the castle, the treasury was a goldmine!

Alibaba didn’t connect the dots. He didn’t pay attention to how Cassim was weirdly respected by the bar patrons, how they paid no mind to Cassim being underage when he ordered alcohol. Alibaba chalked it up to kindness and coincidence. He was such a fool.

And he wasn’t even the one to pay for it. The king was.

Just thinking that the king could’ve possibly lived another day made Alibaba feel nauseous. If Alibaba never left the castle on a whim, would the king still be alive? Would the king have had a few days left to say goodbye? Was it Alibaba’s fault that the king was lost so soon?

Thinking about it made his head ache and his mind jump back to that night. The smell of burning oil, the knot on back his throbbing head. The _look_. That awful, lifeless look devoid of hope or joy that marred Cassim’s features.

The heat. The heat he was so lucky to avoid but he could still remember the awful scent of it burning his lungs and the absolute defeat he felt, because he knew he could do nothing.

Then coming to, hearing of the king’s passing.

Alibaba could only handle so much guilt. If he just gathered money, treasure... Or hell, if he somehow caught one of those dungeons everyone seems to talk about, maybe then with the riches, he could bring wealth back to Balbadd. He could make up, just a little, for what they lost that night.

And maybe he won’t end up taking over. Surely his brother couldn’t do that bad. It was better for everyone, really. Who would want a leader who was the cause of the previous king’s death?

He was selfish.

But if he didn’t make amends somehow, Alibaba didn’t think he could ever set foot in Balbadd again.

* * *

Balbadd only grew worse and worse once the previous king passed. At this point, you might as well call it anarchy disguised as a monarchy. Maybe it was akin to a shitty dictatorship. A country where the rich thrived, the poor suffered, and it was every man for himself.

The social class distance was astounding.

In theory, the king’s passing could be chalked up to Cassim raiding the treasure room. Seeing a part of your castle get set on fire and looted was a lot for a poor old man’s heart, after all. Maybe you could blame this whole thing on him. But when word came out just how deathly ill the previous king was before his passing, he realized that it didn’t matter. Whether it was that day or the day after the next, it would’ve happened, and sooner or later, the king would’ve died.

He should probably feel bad. His actions led to where he was. But he’s spent his entire life targeted and feeling remorse for himself and what he couldn’t do to help others. The easier he let go, the less he let the past haunt him.

Things could haunt him daily if given the chance. It was Cassim’s will that dictated what did and what didn’t weigh him down.

In a world like this, hinderances were unnecessary. Remorse and pain were futile, they led to nothing but more pain and death.

If you didn’t strike first, you got attacked. He was taught this time and time again, ever since he was young.

So he’d strike first. He’d use the weapons he was given, he’d use his affiliated parties to his advantage. He’d use everything he learned until now and apply it, harness it.

In this world, you need power to survive. Cassim was given it. All he had to do was bend it to his will.

And if he bent a few others in his conquest, so be it

* * *

Alibaba was soft. And gullible. He was well aware.

But at least, this time, he could confidently say he didn’t have — and wouldn’t have — any regrets in his current decision.

Well... Maybe he felt a bit of remorse. He broke his promise to Aladdin, and he hardly spared Morgiana a glance. He didn’t think he could dare face Aladdin where he currently stood. Not until his efforts came to something, until this country began reform.

Because he learned. He learned of so many awful things he had no clue existed. He learned that so many friends were gone, his former home was burned to ashes, that his friends... his family suffered so much. And it was none other than the governments fault. The government that oppressed the poor, that did nothing to help and stripped them of what little they owned.

How could Alibaba just return to the palace? If anything, helping out the Fog Troupe per Cassim’s request would be for the better. He then had a better chance of gaining public support, and maybe... Just maybe he could make up for his past mistakes.

It was funny. Cassim was partially the reason he ran away, but... He didn’t hate Cassim. Not at all. No matter how many times Alibaba studied Cassim’s bright smiles or cold, listless eyes that betrayed every part of the being Alibaba laid witness to, Alibaba couldn’t see a reason to despise Cassim. No reason to hate him, no reason to reject him.

In fact, Alibaba wanted to be closer. It was natural, they grew up together. They were best friends!

Even after everything, they were still best friends.

After so many punches, teasing... After being betrayed...

Alibaba still wanted to call Cassim his best friend.

Maybe he was soft. And maybe that’s why for just a little longer, he’d ignore Cassim’s jokes about war. He’d ignore Cassim’s offhand comments or occasional death stares at the people they stole from.

Alibaba would work towards ‘leading’ the Fog Troupe. He’d work towards bettering his image, towards gaining the trust of the people.

That was his best shot, after all. A way to fix things peacefully.

* * *

Sometimes Cassim couldn’t tell when he was lying or telling the truth. Whether that meant he was an awful liar or too good of one was a question for another day.

He knew what taking in Alibaba meant. He also knew when to take an opportunity, especially one that just so perfectly happened to stumble upon him. Any prior feelings didn’t matter, he just had to play the role of best friend, the one Alibaba missed so dearly and craved to interact with. Smiling, teasing Alibaba until he was red in the face, messing around, it wasn’t difficult.

It was easy. Too easy. With how simple it was to treat Alibaba like a decent friend, he wondered if this is how he wished to treat Alibaba anyway.

No, of course not. Alibaba was nothing but a tool. Cassim established this. Alibaba was a pacifist and too shaken by the thought of war to even dare suggest or partake in it. Cassim was more than ready to use his power and words to drag Balbadd into chaos. A new country would never be reformed if those corrupt remained in positions of power, or those who wronged them all this time were left to live.

Was Cassim inviting a massacre? Maybe. But when they shut off the slums to contain disease and let their food supply dwindle to nothing, they did the exact same thing. He was only returning the favor, and in turn, leading Balbadd into an era where a new ruler could take over.

And if Alibaba wanted to oppose that, so be it. Until then, Cassim would keep Alibaba by his side. Alibaba found it hard to oppose him, especially when he so easily avoided heavy conversation topics by teasing or telling Alibaba some outrageous story. Alibaba craved his friendship after so long, and was afraid to lose it.

Alibaba was a coward. What else was new?

“Are you okay? You’re kinda staring off there.” A voice perked up from beside Cassim. He took an offhanded gulp of his mug to find Alibaba, who gripped the wood with his hands but made no move to drink his liquor.

“I should ask you that. You’re the one who’s not drinking,” Cassim commented, taking another long drink. Alibaba’s eyes fell to the mug, liquid sloshing when he tilted it. Even with the challenge, Alibaba didn’t pull the mug to his lips. A silent defeat.

“Yeah. I’m still a lightweight,” Alibaba laughed, but he hadn’t taken a single sip all this evening. It was no business of Cassim’s, he was merely here at the pleading of Hassan and a few more members. They were all in their own discussion anyway. Alibaba didn’t bother to jump in, he just sat and stared into space like Cassim most of the time.

“Well, you might as well get drunk. It’s not like we work in the day,” Cassim hummed and stood, pushing his mug away. Didn’t mean he had to get drunk. He hardly reached a buzz, but he wasn’t interested in staying in this noisy environment much longer. He grabbed a few silver pieces and tossed them on the table, worn from years usage. Alibaba looked up curiously, then hastily sat his mug down. Cassim threw in a few extra pieces.

“I can pay for—“

“Already did,” Cassim mumbled and turned away, twisting a dread between his forefinger and thumb. It was a good substitute for distraction when a cigar was inappropriate — not that anyone would openly complain — and a good excuse for keeping it overgrown. He’d have to ask Zaynab to retwist them soon.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Alibaba sped up and matched Cassim’s pace, who made no real move to slow down nor avoid Alibaba. He tilted his head in response, raising a hand as he approached the exit.

“Hm? They’re leaving early,” he heard Zaynab mumble behind him, but Cassim just waved in a mock goodbye and left the bar, holding the door open long enough for Alibaba to follow.

“Back to the base? You’re tired?” Alibaba tilted his head, trying to get a glimpse at Cassim, who purposely turned his head away. Alibaba narrowed his eyes, but didn’t back down and kept at Cassim’s languid pace.

“...The sky’s pretty. You don’t get to see it this nice on foggy nights,” Alibaba whispered, head tilted up to admire the sky. Cassim didn’t respond, but he looked up and was met with countless glittering stars. Cassim was probably supposed to feel some sense of wonder like people always described... he didn’t feel much. It was a sky, was all. Like every other foggy night.

“Hey, you’re being pretty quiet. Are you mad or something?” Alibaba tried again, too awkward to just let the silence settle. Cassim was probably showing himself too much. He’s supposed to smile and play the best friend. Alibaba’s seen him like this numerous times, but Cassim’s worked on building up smiles for when they’re alone. It makes Cassim seem like he’s actually fun and lively in private, like he cares.

He does. He just can’t put on facade all the time. And sometimes he does smile and joke around, but most of the time, he’d rather observe everyone from a corner and gain a sense of peace from seeing them so overjoyed.

“What would I be mad at?” Cassim asked, gifting Alibaba the smallest of smirks. Alibaba relaxed at that, returning with his own bright grin. Cassim’s face fell, and his eyes trailed back up to the field of stars. He didn’t really understand what people found so beautiful about it. It was nothing but an expanse of tiny lights.

He didn’t really find anything about this world beautiful.

“Oh, we’re here,” Alibaba mused aloud, the two of them just passing the large mountain of rubble that towered in front of their base.

“Mm.” Cassim hummed. Alibaba was finally silent, the pseudo smile enough to satisfy him, and they travelled the rest of the way, into the building, towards their rooms in comfortable silence. That was, until Alibaba grasped his arm before Cassim could open his door.

“Can we um... talk?” Alibaba’s grip was weak and he avoided Cassim’s eyes. He probably wouldn’t go through with it, like every other time before. Cassim would rather just retire, but he supposed he wasn’t entirely tired and alone he would just smoke and let his thoughts carry him for the next hour or two.

“Sure thing.” Cassim opened his door and beckoned Alibaba in, shutting it behind him. Cassim stood and Alibaba awkwardly did the same, eyes darting to the bed but remaining in his place. He straightened his back — not that it made him much taller — and spoke.

“You... I need to know. I need to know what you... What you’re— I mean...” Alibaba fumbled, even when Cassim made the risky choice of not cutting Alibaba off. He simply crossed his arms and let his weight fall onto the wall, eyeing Alibaba without particularly bright eyes. It seemed to just make Alibaba look down with a lack of confidence.

“If it’s not important then just—“

“It is important!” cried Alibaba, stepping closer. He closed two fists, a sweat dripping down his pale cheek. He grit his teeth while Cassim stared with listless eyes.

“Out with it, then,” Cassim hummed, eyes trailing to a crack in the wall. Alibaba seemed a little more determined this time. Maybe it would be the day Alibaba gained a spine and spoke his mind after all.

“At least look at me when I’m talking to you! You—ugh...” Alibaba scratched his head, furrowing his brows. He let out a long sigh and glanced up at Cassim through his bangs, who raised an eyebrow.

“Seems like you’re the mad one here. You gonna take it out on me?” He smiled a little at that. Alibaba only grew more frustrated, but really, it was Alibaba’s fault for approaching him when he wasn’t entirely prepared.

“I’m not — Dammit Cassim! I know you know what I’m on about! Quit acting so aloof!” Alibaba growled, finally showing some semblance of anger while he grabbed Cassim’s clothing and shoved him into the wall. Damn, that hurt. His hair broke most of the pain but did Alibaba care about his head at all?

“Guess you were angry,” Cassim teased, but his face was blank and Alibaba just looked shocked, then guilty.

“Did I hurt you? Sorry... I just need to know. Because all this time you’ve been acting like you‘re joking but I can’t tell what you’re thinking and... and...” Alibaba’s fingers trembled while he clutched Cassim’s top. Cassim reached up and wrapped his hands around Alibaba’s wrists, who straightened and looked up curiously.

He spun them around and slammed Alibaba into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!”

“Doesn’t feel too good, does it?” Cassim scoffed, raising his chin. He was hardly taller than Alibaba, but right now, he had every reason to look down on him.

“Sorry... sorry.” Alibaba winced, tilting his head down, unable to meet Cassim’s eyes. He seemed to tremble under Cassim’s touch, like he was scared or something.

“Jeez, Alibaba. You do that and you still won’t talk. You gotta learn to speak your mind someday,” Cassim said, pressing closer. Alibaba’s pulse drummed under his thumbs, some type of nerves he guessed, but Alibaba’s back was pin straight and he was holding his breath.

“I... I know... I just... Gah,” Alibaba gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. Cassim blinked, staring down at Alibaba, who was stiff, heart beating violently, but wrists surprisingly warm and if Cassim looked closer, his cheeks were flushed along with his ears. He was biting his lip and — oh. _Oh_. So that’s what this development was.

That was irritating. Alibaba comes in here to try and confront Cassim and instead ends up hot and bothered from a little pinning to the wall. Cassim wondered if it was because Alibaba was being pinned to the wall or...

“Don’t tell me...” Cassim breathed, lips brushing against Alibaba’s ear. Alibaba visibly jumped and went a deeper shade of red.

“I mean... um... It’s nothing. It’s nothing! This isn’t what I... I should go,” Alibaba panicked, pressing to get away from Cassim’s grasp but Cassim just pinned Alibaba’s hands to the wall — he had let go of Cassim’s shirt in his attempt to escape — and pushed his knee between Alibaba’s legs.

“Do you really want to go?” Cassim hummed, placing a soft kiss on the shell of Alibaba’s ear. Alibaba clenched his fist and retained a gasp, violently shaking his head. His ears were the color of tomatoes.

It was a nice shade.

“I’m not mad.” Cassim ran his lips down Alibaba’s jawline. Is he mad? He’s not really sure what he feels. If he was angry, he probably wouldn’t have Alibaba gasping against the wall. But if he was happy, he’d probably be smiling more.

It’s not lust. He knew that much, he’s more than capable of keeping it in his pants. So what was it? Why was he encouraging Alibaba? And why was he dragging Alibaba into a kiss so uncharacteristically gentle that Alibaba melted against him?

“Cassim do you, no - ” Alibaba shook his head, “- Why are you doing this?” he sighed, while Cassim let go of a wrist to rake a hand over Alibaba’s clothed side. Alibaba bit his lip and ran a hand down Cassim’s front, pausing at the cloth tying his pants up.

“Dunno. Probably because it’s you.” _Definitely because it’s you, dumbass._ Cassim tilted his head down and bit at Alibaba’s neck just a little too hard in his bout of frustration. Alibaba groaned and tugged at Cassim’s top, who’s pressing lips to the open flesh of skin in a mock apology, deftly avoiding the red cord Alibaba kept around his neck. Definitely Alibaba. No question, he’d never just up and do this to anyone else who pinned him to a wall.

“Oh.” Alibaba didn’t look displeased in the least.

Each question answered arose more for himself. Cassim shouldn’t be gentle on Alibaba. If anything, he should be tugging Alibaba to the bed and forcing him on his knees. But he’s here holding Alibaba with such care and pressing his thigh between Alibaba’s legs to make Alibaba throw his head back and groan loud enough for everyone to hear were they not out drinking. He’s being so sweet — so normal to Alibaba, and he doesn’t really get it. But even if he thinks about pulling Alibaba roughly into bed, he finds he much prefers hearing Alibaba’s gentle moans and it’s oddly soothing, Alibaba rhythmically bucking into his thigh and gripping at his shirt. Alibaba wiggled his pinned wrist down until he could interlace their fingers together and Cassim realized — Alibaba liked him.

Someone like him.

Alibaba really did have terrible tastes. Such terrible tastes, whispering Cassim’s name while Cassim began to fiddle with the cloth around Alibaba’s middle until it finally came undone. Cassim probably did too, seeing as he had no problem moving away and directing Alibaba to sit on the bed, Alibaba’s clothes messy and on the verge of falling.

“S-Sorry. Let me... um...” Alibaba laughed awkwardly, slipping off his overcoat and sliding his top onto the floor. Alibaba’s chest was as flushed as his cheeks, a pretty scarlet and mildly damp with sweat. Cassim ran a hand over Alibaba’s chest, still standing but bent over slightly so he could feel Alibaba’s muscles contract under his hand.

Touching Alibaba made him feel something. He still wouldn’t describe it as happiness, but... something more akin to peace. Relaxing. Cassim found it surprisingly easy to focus on Alibaba, even when he himself had a mild flush to his cheeks. Maybe he just didn’t care for himself at the moment (or ever), but he fell to his knees and pulled Alibaba’s baggy pants down, then gently undid Alibaba’s loincloth until it was nothing but a scrap of cloth on the floor.

“Wait, are you...?” Alibaba stared down with sparkling eyes, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. Cassim hummed some kind of affirmation and moved his body between Alibaba’s thighs, using one hand to grasp Alibaba and run a thumb up the shaft, stroking experimentally. Alibaba let out a moan more resembling a whine and grasped at the covers, eyes taken by Cassim. Cassim kept his head down — he didn’t think he could look at Alibaba like this — and leaned forward, teasing the tip with his tongue before he took Alibaba in his mouth whole, one hand supported on Alibaba’s thigh while the other twisted where Cassim’s lips couldn’t reach.

Alibaba’s legs trembled and he let out a low groan, hips jerking forward. That made Cassim choke just slightly — annoying, and he now braced both hands on Alibaba’s legs, holding him still while he barely ghosted his tongue over Alibaba in reprimand. Alibaba squirmed under his teasing, but Cassim would just plant kisses up the shaft and Alibaba would stiffen and go bright red. Good, the guy deserved to be embarrassed.

“You‘re... uh... wow,” was Alibaba could rasp, using one hand to move a few short dreads from Cassim’s eyes. Cassim still didn’t look up, but he quit the teasing and took Alibaba deep in his mouth, slick and warm, at a quicker pace. Alibaba’s thighs began to tense and Cassim took that as a signal, swallowing around Alibaba, who let out a sharp gasp and cried out. He writhed under Cassim’s touch while Cassim kept moving his head until Alibaba relaxed and he could pull off, wiping the corners of his lips. He only looked up then, at Alibaba, whose lips were partially opened and wet, face flushed and eyelids half closed in bliss. One of the few looks Cassim’s never seen before. Alibaba looked at Cassim then widened his eyes, sitting up straight.

“Sorry! I should’ve said something. I think I have a handkerchief somewhere, uh...” Alibaba made to stand, but Cassim pushed him back down and shook his head.

“It’s fine. Just...” He wasn’t really sure what he wanted Alibaba to do. He... he wasn’t sure at all. But Alibaba seemed to know, he dragged Cassim to sit beside him and undressed him with urgency, strewing clothes every which way. Right, Cassim was still pretty hot. And hard. He just found Alibaba squirming from his touch so much more rewarding. Before Cassim knew it, Alibaba had him undressed entirely and was leaning over, pushing Cassim into the bed beside him and then leaning over to peck his lips.

“Here, I can...” Alibaba murmured against Cassim’s lips, bracing himself on an arm and using his other to run a hand up and down Cassim’s chest, Cassim tensing under the warm feel of skin and Alibaba near his lips, eyes locked. Cassim couldn’t look away. He was met with this look Cassim thinks he’s seen before, but there’s so much more he never bothered to notice about it until now. Currently it was burning a permanent mark into his soul, the dark rukh that fluttered anxiously inside of him and made his stomach soar.

Cassim wasn’t sure what look he was giving Alibaba. Maybe he was confused. But Alibaba didn’t care because Alibaba looked on with an all-knowing gaze — since when did Alibaba know anything about him? — and Alibaba was slowly trailing a hand up Cassim’s leg. _Damn,_ that felt good.

Alibaba took Cassim in his fist, thumb swirling around the tip. He dragged Cassim into a sweet kiss, one that didn’t really match the fact that Alibaba was currently working him to his limit, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to Cassim’s lips and cheeks. Cassim didn’t really want to moan but he was definitely gasping and tugging Alibaba closer, especially since Alibaba was now working his hand quicker and Cassim was falling victim to touch, arching his hips and swallowing down any sound that dared to rise in his throat. Alibaba pressed their foreheads together, eyes on Cassim, who wanted to look away but couldn’t really look elsewhere. It just make his cheeks darken.

“Cassim...” Alibaba pressed a kiss to Cassim’s nose while Cassim grit his teeth. Some strangled noise left his throat when Alibaba leaned down to nip at Cassim’s neck in the same place Cassim had done Alibaba.

Flushed, Cassim wrapped an arm around Alibaba and buried his face into Alibaba’s neck, so Alibaba couldn’t see his face when he came with a groan, body shuddering and oversensitive when Alibaba gave a few extra strokes. Cassim didn’t let go for a minute. He was still red and in a really vulnerable state that he felt uncomfortable with people seeing, let alone Alibaba.

But Alibaba was gently pushing Cassim away (why wouldn’t he?) and he had to move back. Alibaba merely grabbed a handkerchief, cleaned his hand, and looked back at Cassim, flashing a reassuring smile.

Cassim didn’t know what this feeling was. Alibaba liked him, he was sure. But he wasn’t sure if he liked Alibaba.

Not that it mattered. One day they’d be enemies.

...Whether Cassim wanted to be or not. They’d become enemies.

* * *

Alibaba reached back and cupped Cassim’s still red cheek, his eyes darker than Alibaba would’ve hoped. Cassim didn’t seem to regret his actions — Alibaba certainly didn’t — but his eyes still held that shadow Alibaba hoped he could lift just a little.

Maybe doing this with Cassim was stupid. It’d probably make it harder to come to terms with what Cassim stands for, and for the confrontation they’d eventually have to have.

But Alibaba felt just a little closer to Cassim, like Cassim wasn’t putting up a front for once. Because Cassim was impossible to read at times and Alibaba thought that at least now, Cassim was honest.

If not honest, defenseless.

So Alibaba leaned forward and moved a dread away from Cassim’s sweat-ridden forehead, who looked up with suspicious eyes. He was on the defensive, but he was completely _defenseless_. Naked. In both body and soul.

Alibaba wondered if Cassim found it scary. He was clinging so tight when Alibaba... took care of him after all.

So Alibaba reached both arms out and pulled Cassim into a flush hug, chest pressed together. They were still bare, but it felt less sexy and more intimate. The intimate warmth of skin-to-skin contact, the feel of Cassim’s tan skin under his fingertips as he rubbed Cassim’s back comfortingly.

He wasn’t sure what he was hugging Cassim for. Maybe as an apology. For leaving, for leaving again... For not being able to do anything. Cassim remained limp in Alibaba’s arms, but that was so much better than tense so Alibaba just held him, placing a light kiss on Cassim’s exposed neck.

“I’m sorry,” Alibaba whispered.

“For what?”

“Being such a coward.” Because that was the best way to describe it. A coward who ran to the palace, a coward who ran from the palace, a coward who can’t confront Cassim just yet because he wants to bask in this moment of just holding Cassim.

Cassim didn’t respond, but he buried his head into Alibaba’s neck, who smiled. He was sorry for so much. For being unable to confess his true feelings just yet, for being so cruel as to hug Cassim and court him in the worst way possible without the promise of a relationship just yet...

Alibaba wasn’t sure of Cassim’s feelings. Cassim was so blank and quiet, but even if Cassim didn’t exactly feel romantic feelings, Alibaba hoped there was something. Something that compelled Cassim to make the first move and keep Alibaba here. Something that he and Alibaba could explore later on in full and make something out of.

Alibaba wanted to change Cassim’s mind. If Cassim really did want to start a war, Alibaba wanted to banish that thought. Balbadd didn’t need more pain and bloodshed. It needed peaceful reform. For the people who suffered. For people like Cassim who were treated like such dirt they didn’t even feel like their lives mattered.

Cassim wasn’t a bastard. Maybe he’s done some bad things, but Alibaba was hardly better in his naivety. Alibaba just wanted a country where he and Cassim could coexist in peace because the last thing Alibaba wanted was to stand against Cassim on the battlefield because of differing ideals.

Alibaba squeezed Cassim just a little tighter. He’ll confront Cassim soon. He will. But not tonight. Tonight he’ll just hold Cassim in his arms and pray to whatever God existed that he and Cassim could come to a truce.

They were best friends. Alibaba would be damned if he just gave up on Cassim after all this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Should Cassim apologize for a lot of things too? Yes. Will he? No lol
> 
> I vaguely forgot the exact age this takes place in when writing but my mind wouldn’t let me write ‘jerking off’ because it sounded too modern rip.
> 
> This was meant to be pure angst all the way through but turns out I’m a softie and can’t write bad endings.


End file.
